Falling Snow
by yipyop1
Summary: When Gru can't come home for Christmas, the house is in an uproar. Margo decides that she is not going to have Christmas without a father, but her decision makes her wonder if she is courageous, or just stupid.
1. I'll be home for Christmas

There was something very peaceful about the falling snow. The fluffy, white flakes drifted lazily outside the window, catching the orange glow of the streetlamps on the corners. It was even more comforting to watch them float around from inside the warm house, where the fire crackled in the hearth, the hum of "White Christmas" sounded from the radio, and the sweet smell of sugar cookies filled the nostrils of the three girls, who sank deeper into the couch cushions.

Margo removed her glasses to rub her eyes wearily before placing them back on the bridge of her nose. "When did he say he'd be back, Edith?" she asked, turning to her sister.

Edith adjusted her pink hat and sat up straighter, thinking hard. "Um…I know it was sometime tonight."

Margo rolled her eyes. She was too impatient for this nonsense right now. "I _know_ it's tonight. Why else would we be making welcome home cookies?"

"For us to eat!" piped up Agnes, who hopped off the couch and began twirling around in her pink tutu. Edith giggled and jumped up to join her little sister in the game, where they turned in circles as fast as they could until the room was spinning. They fell to the floor in a laughing heap, trying to regain their sense of balance, but only falling back down again and laughing even harder than before. Margo gave up on her younger sisters and headed towards the kitchen to see if the cookies were cooled yet. She clambered up onto the counter to poke a doughy star-shaped cookie. It was warm, but not warm enough to melt the icing they were about to spread onto them. She reached for the bowl of green frosting – a little too green, since Agnes insisted on squeezing half the bottle of food coloring into the vanilla before Margo had to hold her back.

Margo spread the green frosting on a Christmas tree as neatly as she could, wiping off the access with a paper towel as the sounds of her sisters' giggles filled the house. Margo glanced toward the clock every so often, trying to remember when Gru said he would be home. He had only been gone for two weeks, but the girls had missed their bedtime stories and goodnight kisses. Even though Gru had asked Uncle Nefario to tuck them in while he was gone, it was never the same. This business trip he was on seemed much longer than the girls had thought it would be, and it was hard to imagine their first Christmas together without him. Though Margo was happy for Gru moving up in the industry, she wanted him home. She needed him home...for Christmas Eve.

The minutes ticked by rather slowly, past six-thirty, almost seven. Edith and Agnes had joined the cookie-decorating fray, spreading thick frosting sloppily and covering the sugar cookies with glittery white sprinkles .Margo did her best to keep the counter top tidy, but that was obviously never going to happen now. The treats were laid out onto a Christmas plate to wait for Gru, and it was almost seven-thirty by the time the girls were finished. Agnes was starting to yawn and blink heavily. She shuffled over to the corner of the living room where Kyle, their viscous-looking animal they decided to think of as a dog, was snoring soundly. She curled up beside the thing, burying her face in his fuzzy hair. Edith raced toward the window again, glancing around at the street covered in white, hoping to catch Gru's large vehicle rumbling around the corner. But even after faithfully watching the street for over ten minutes, Edith flopped down onto the cushions and folded her arms defiantly.

"He said he'd be home tonight," she pouted, giving a red, Santa pillow a good kick in the face. Margo hurried over to comfort her sister, hopping up next to her on the sofa.

"Don't worry, he'll be here," she said, trying to sound confident. "He did tell us that this conference was important. He's just running a little late, that's all."

Edith did not seem convinced. "But it's Christmas Eve," she whined. "We can't wait for Santa until Dad gets home!" She put on a scowl and stormed back towards the kitchen, covering up the cookies with a terribly wrinkled piece of aluminum foil just as two minions sauntered into the kitchen, wearing Santa hats, and probably hoping to snag one of the delicious treats the girls made. Edith smacked away one of their hands before it could reach under the foil.

_"No, _Stewart!" she scolded. "These are for Dad! _Not you!" _

Stewart rubbed his sore hand and grimaced, as the other minion – who Edith could only guess was Dave, for it was difficult telling them all apart – laughed manically at his companion's misfortune. It was at this moment that Dr. Nefario shuffled into the kitchen, chuckling at the antics of the minions. He patted Edith on the head as he passed her, reaching into the refrigerator for a juice box. It was pointless to remind him that those were for their lunches. He always drank them anyway.

"Behave yourselves, boys," he warned the little yellow monsters, unwrapping the plastic from his little straw. "Don't make me inform Gru that you tried to steal his cookies." Nefario glanced over at the sleeping form of Agnes in the corner. She and Kyle were snuggling up to each other under the very large Christmas tree, and the entire spectacle was rather adorable. Nefario faked a frown and took a long sip from his apple juice.

Margo stepped in front of Nefario with her hands on her hips. "Uncle Nefario," she said sternly, causing him to blink in surprise. He was still not used to the girls calling him "Uncle." He always voiced how he disapproved of the name, but Margo knew he secretly liked it. "Do you know where Dad is? He should have been home hours ago, and I'm worried."

Nefario gave a raspy sigh and crushed his juice box in one gloved hand. "I haven't heard from him, my dear. The weather is not looking particularly promising at the moment, though."

"He can't be late! We made cookies 'specially for him!" Edith kicked the Santa pillow across the room again and sat cross-legged on the floor rebelliously. Margo crouched down next to her sister and placed a hand on her shoulder. She completely excused Edith's behavior, because she actually felt like throwing a tantrum, herself. Tomorrow was Christmas. What if Gru didn't make it home in time? What if they were forced to wait for Santa without him? What if they had to read the Christmas Story without him? Uncle Nefario had only read to them once this week, and the girls prayed it would never happen ever again. He rushed the words and never did the funny voices like Gru did. It only caused the girls miss Gru more and more each day. This made Margo wish for a moment that she was not the responsible older sister and could kick that jolly Santa pillow in his grinning face as well.

A loud ringing interrupted Margo's thoughts and made everyone jump. (Dave toppled backwards, causing Stewart to burst into a fit of giggles.) Little Agnes was suddenly wide awake, jerking up so fast that Kyle yelped with surprise.

"It's Daddy!" she squealed, jumping up and running as fast as her little legs could carry her towards the kitchen, where Nefario picked up the receiver calmly. The three sisters held their breaths as Nefario cleared his throat and spoke.

"Gru? Is that you?" he immediately asked. There was a moment of silence, and then a sudden laugh. "Gru! _Bloody hell,_ boy! Where are you? The girls are worried sick!"

Margo was so relieved to hear her dad's name that she had forgotten to cover up Agnes' ears at Uncle Nefario's language. The sisters leaned forward to see if they could hear their dad's voice on the other end. All that could be heard was very fuzzy, like when the cable went out and the television made that horrible ripping sound. Nefario covered up his other ear and leaned in closer to the phone, even though no one was making a sound around him.

"Gru..._Gru!_ I can't understand a single word you're..." He frantically motioned for someone to turn the radio down, which was now playing "I'll be home for Christmas." Margo turned it off quickly, and then helped her sisters onto the counter so they could all lean in to the phone and attempt to hear what their father was saying. Nefario waved the girls away and squinted his eyes under his goggles, as if that would help him hear things better. "Erm...do you really...? I mean, the girls have been...Come now, boy, it's Christmas Eve for Pete's sake..." He listened for a full minute, while everyone held their breath expectantly. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded his head very slowly. "Well...if you are quite sure. No, no, I understand. You just keep yourself safe, y'hear? For the girls' sakes, at least."

The sound of the phone clicking off was so loud, so final. It echoed throughout the now quiet house...it was too quiet. Too tense...

Nefario cleared his throat huskily and shooed the girls off of the counter top. "Well, girls, it looks like Gru won't be home tonight – "

There was a wave of loud protests, with each girl rambling at a mile a minute.

"What do you mean he won't be home?"

"What about the Christmas Story...?"

"What about the _cookies?"_

Nefario tossed his empty juice box into the trash can before speaking again over all the noise. "Gru said he would try to be home in the morning...if the roads clear up," he paused to see if the shouting had died down. "The wind is too strong to fly with the ship...But he is staying at the Harrow Hotel, and then we'll see if the winds have calmed down in the morning."

Agnes suddenly burst into tears, wailing so loud Kyle started to howl with her. Margo rushed over to sooth her, but Agnes would have none of it. She collapsed to the ground, her eyes wet, and grabbed poor Kyle around his neck and yanked him towards her. The poor dog's fur was completely soaked by the time the minions pried Agnes away.

Angry tears surged in Edith's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away with her oversized sweater. Even Margo had almost never seen Edith cry before, and she found it hard to hold back her own tears as well. Nefario hesitated, then reached down to scoop up Agnes in his arms.

"There, there, little one," he said gruffly. "Let's get you off to bed." Nefario carried the sobbing girl towards the stairs, with the minions trailing worriedly behind.

"I want Daddy," Agnes sniffled one last time before disappearing around the corner.

"Me too," muttered Edith, rubbing her eyes with her fists again. She dragged her feet over to the Christmas tree and poked an ornament shaped like a mace – it was her favorite one. Margo sighed and came to stand next to her sister.

"Well...at least we know he's safe," she tried. "I mean, who knows what could have happened out there?" They both glanced over at the frosty windows, observing the fluttering flakes of snow. It really did not look too bad on the other side. There were people trudging through the knee-deep snow, hurrying home to their families and the late Christmas dinner that was probably waiting on the tables for them. Margo's heart flip-flopped into her stomach, and for a single moment, all of her emotions bubbled up to her eyes. She wiped a tear and stifled a sniffle. She could not let her sister see her lose it; she was the one her sisters looked up to now.

Edith wiped her nose and began to make her way up the stairs. She had never gone to bed this early in her life. It was so odd to see her moving in such a sluggish manner, but that was the effect that Gru had left on these girls. Something hot rose up in Margo's chest, and she hated him for a second.

"You're only an hour away," Margo huffed. "Couldn't you have walked or something?"

As soon as she said it, she felt terrible, but with a slight hint of satisfaction. Snow should _not_ be keeping their family apart on Christmas. What was snow? Cold water? If he bundled up and trudged through it, he would make it home within the hour. Margo would wake her sleeping sisters, they would eat cookies and drink hot cocoa, and then Gru would fall asleep while reading the Christmas Story, complete with the pop-up pictures and everything.

That was the vision Margo had had in her mind all month, and nothing was going to stop it.

Especially not a little flurry of snow.

Her mind buzzing with nonsense and her insides filling with adrenaline, Margo scampered over to the hall closet and suited up. She slipped her feet into her snow boots, zipped up her coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and fitted a hat onto her head. She was heading out the door as quietly as she could, slipping on her gloves.

_He's not going to desert us on Christmas, _she thought, closing the door behind her and stepping out into the winter world of swirling snow. _Not if I have anything to say about it. _


	2. Unfreeze Ray?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This entire story is more of a long "oneshot", if that makes any sense. That's one of the reasons I don't want to split it up into chapters, just small parts. Thank you, as always, for reading! Comments are very much appreciated C:**

**-yipyop**

…...

Gru hung up the phone, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and sinking down onto the hotel's bed. That was the single most difficult phone call he had ever had to make in his life. It was something that would seem simple at first thought. But when he imagined his girls crowded around Nefario back at home, very likely listening to the conversation, something inside of him broke. And when he had to inform them that he would not be home for Christmas Eve? All the worse.

He was more than disappointed for his daughters' sakes. This was most likely their very first Christmas with a real home. Then again, in a way, this was Gru's first Christmas with a real home as well. He rested his chin in his palm, imagining what the house looked like tonight. He had helped the girls put up and decorate the Christmas tree a few weeks earlier, and would never forget the sheer joy he felt hanging little candy canes, shiny spheres, and plastic weapons from the branches of the largest pine tree he could find. He recalled lifting little Agnes onto his shoulder so she could place the star on the top.

Oh Agnes...she was his princess. With her huge brown eyes, chubby cheeks, and little red nose. He had missed those butterfly kisses she would give him after he had read the girls a bedtime story, fluttering her thick eyelashes against his cheek. She was light enough to lift up onto his shoulder, and he always made excuses to pick her up and swing her around. The laughs that escaped her lips were like music to his ears.

And Edith. She was his little spitfire, his firework. She reminded him of himself in some ways, perhaps disregarding the baldness. He smiled slightly, remembering that she gave the absolute best – if not bone-crushing – hugs. She was always jumping into situations without quite thinking things through. But even when she fell off her bike or burned her hand on the hot cookie sheet, Gru would always be there with a band-aid and a kiss to make it all better.

When he had first adopted them, it was Margo who was the most skeptical, and, admittedly, with pretty good reason. But to Gru, that only added to her cleverness. Out of his three girls, Margo had been the one who had the most trouble trusting him at first, and it took her two more months than the others to call him "dad." She was a stubborn one, but so was Gru sometimes. His mouth twitched just thinking about her trying to handle her sisters while he was away, but a twinge of guilt followed, tugging at his heartstrings. She was Gru's little warrior, always staying strong for her sisters, and for him.

Gru stood up rather suddenly and hurried over to the window. He looked down at his large vehicle parked in the lot, slowly being covered with snow. It had broken down near the Harrow Hotel a few hours earlier. No matter how long and hard Gru had tried to fix it, it was near impossible because of the horrid weather. He clenched his fists together angrily. He was the world's greatest evil genius, and it was a little fall of snow that defeated him. He hated this warm, cozy hotel room. He missed his dark house, his evil lab, and his daughters most of all.

"This is ridiculous," he growled to himself, glaring at the nicely furnished room as if it had done him a horrible crime. "I can't be sitting here on the girls' first Christmas."

He paced the room, thinking of about a hundred ways to get home. His ship was way out of the question – he knew he should have checked the engine before he left the conference center. He thought about his jet pack hidden safely in his large suitcase, but on opening his window to check the wind and finding that the falling snow was going in about five directions at once, he knew he would be blown halfway across the city if he decided to fly. As he sank down in a nearby chair, he cursed himself for not adding an "unfreeze" button to his freeze ray. He could melt the snow and ice from his ship in a matter of seconds and be home in five.

None of his plans seemed to fit his situation, but he knew he had to get home tonight, even if he had to trudge through the deep, freezing snow – as insane as it sounded.

…...


	3. Sleep

It seemed like such a brilliant idea an hour ago.

Margo was still tramping through knee-deep snow on the sidewalk, feeling the cold seep into her jeans and melting into her boots. The scenery had definitely changed since she had begun her journey. The bright streetlamps and warm houses decorated with red and green lights had long since passed. Now, only the foreboding apartment complexes loomed ahead of her. It was dark and uninviting, and for as brave as Margo thought she was, she tried not to look around and only focused on the lights in the distance.

"I've been past the hotel before," the girl said this out loud to give herself some company besides the howling wind. But her teeth felt frozen as soon as she opened her mouth, and she quickly shut it. I should have passed it by now, she continued in thought, starting to feel a little panic in her stomach.

Had it gotten colder in the past five minutes? Whenever she exhaled, her visible breath escaped with the wind, and she watched it twirl above the snow, like a cloud of tiny, flying ballerinas. She jumped up onto a relatively clear doorstep to escape the cold, and stood there shivering for a bit, taking off her glasses and cleaning them as best as she could. The temperature felt like it was dropping by the minute, and Margo could not remember the last time she had felt this cold. Her face, toes, and fingers were practically on fire. Her hands seemed to creak as she clenched her fists together, and she was forced to take off her soaked gloves, which seemed to be making the situation worse. Her eyes widened in surprise as she stared down at her frozen fingertips, which had turned a dark purple. She shivered again – not just because of the cold – and stuck her fingers in her mouth. This only made them sting even more, and she let out a little yelp.

_I can't give up now,_ Margo bit her tongue to keep from crying out again. _I've gotten this far...it can't be much longer..._

Margo pressed on, not exactly sure if her mind was still with her. She kept the memory of her dad's face in her mind, even though her vision was starting to get a little fuzzy. She had to remain strong for her dad, her sisters...for herself.

And icy blast of wind picked up and knocked her square in the face. Margo gave a growl, trying to fight back, but even then, it was half-hearted. She felt her energy draining from her limbs, and as she dragged her frozen feet over to an alleyway, her mind became fuzzy – blending her surroundings together until they were reduced to a mere blur of colors. The alley at least blocked the harshest onslaught of wind, but this far from comforted the young girl. Her vision was becoming more mangled by the second, and she knew she had to lay down for a moment. It took everything in her power to curl up under a cardboard box that was, thankfully, relatively dry. She carefully put her head down, feeling the world spin around her.

"I'll only rest for a minute," she breathed. She willed herself not to close her eyes, afraid that if she did, she would never wake up.

What made her do something this dangerous in the first place? Margo thought hard, realizing that she had just accomplished the dumbest feat any of her sisters had dared attempted. This was even dumber than that time when Edith thought it would be a good idea to skateboard down the stairs. Even then, all Edith needed was a band-aid for her scraped knee. Margo knew that she would be incredibly lucky if anyone found her at all in this storm. She had to get moving again – keep the blood flowing, and maybe meet someone on the road who could help her. She wasn't far from the hotel, she could feel it...

Margo placed her freezing hands underneath her body and pushed with all her strength. Her arms shook violently before collapsing back onto the cardboard. Terror rose up in her chest, and she frantically tried again. And again. She could no longer feel any part of her body. It was getting harder and harder to move anything at all.

And then, it hit her. All the tension that was scratching at her throat suddenly broke, and she found herself crying uncontrollably. Her body racked with dry, heaving sobs, causing her to shake from head to toe with an energy she knew she did not possess. There were no tears, for all the water felt like it had been drained from her body. But her face scrunched up with defeat, causing her already dry lips to crack even more. She was weak, sore, and frozen, and she discovered with a jolt that no one knew where she was. Margo had left without telling anyone where she was going. She clutched herself in agony. There was no one to save her. Margo did not have her sisters. Margo did not have Gru. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life.

"Why? _Why?"_ she choked shakily. Why had she left the comfort and warmth of her home to go out and look for someone who was safe at a hotel? Why had she been so selfish, trying to prove to herself that she was brave? She had jumped to conclusions without thinking, and now she was paying the price. She bit her cracked, bottom lip and wished for tears to come.

Margo hugged herself and wriggled to the farthest corner of her box, where she could feel her warm breath bounce off the wall and back to her face. Her eyelids became very heavy, as if something invisible was alluring her to sleep. It was so comforting, so inviting. Margo let out a loud sneeze and, as if that took everything out of her, fell into a deep slumber.


	4. Hold On

Gru stepped through the knee-deep snow, thankful that he at least was wearing his thick snow pants and heavy insulated boots. To think he had been embarrassed when his mom tucked them into his suitcase, along with a hand-knitted scarf and matching hat. Despite the cold wind and wet snow, he felt quite toasty in his snow gear. He continued to tramp down the road, long past the Harrow Hotel and surrounding city buildings. Now, he was walking through his very least favorite part of town, where the run-down buildings loomed around him, blocking out all the bright, colorful lights of the big city now miles behind him.

Gru pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and glanced around with apprehensive eyes. Even though he considered himself to be one of the scariest villains of all time, something felt quite eerie about this area. Of course, he had his ray gun in his pocket just in case, but something else was nagging at the back of his skull – the silence. It was not the peaceful quiet of his neighborhood, but unearthly silence. No one was bustling, it was dark and somehow seemed even colder than anywhere else he had walked. The slight sound of the whistling wind and the crunching of his footsteps in the snow was all that reached his ears. He tried to put this out of his mind and instead, imagined what his girls were doing right now. He had no doubts that they were upset about him not being home, but how surprised they would be when he nudged them awake to wish them a "Merry Christmas"! He could not help but smile, envisioning their rosy cheeks and bright, shining eyes. Just thinking about them made him quicken his pace as best as he could through the deep snow.

But then, as he continued to stare at his feet dragging through the snow, something else caught his attention a few yards away. He cocked his head to the side and squinted against the wind to make it out; it was footprints, looking rather fresh. They had come from the opposite direction and had disappeared in the ominous alley to his left. But as Gru puzzled momentarily over the recent prints, a sudden, sharp noise startled him, causing Gru to nearly jump out of his skin. He promptly whipped out his ray gun, aiming it at the dark alley with precision. He stood there, breathing heavily, knowing that he was not alone – the noise sounded oddly enough like a high-pitched sneeze.

"Who goes there?" he shouted into the darkness. There was no response, only his own voice echoing back at him. His ears suddenly became more alert, nearly ringing, and strained to hear any sort of movement. After standing in the snow for a few more minutes, like a deer caught in headlights, he took a few tentative steps forward, still brandishing his gun.

"I am warning you," he growled, darting his eyes around suspiciously. "If you even think about trying any funny business..." Gru's voice trailed off as his pupils started adjusting to the darkness. There was a dumpster to his right and a pile of cardboard boxes to his left; nothing spectacularly out of the ordinary – save for the footprints he had followed. They had never left the alley, on the contrary, they came to stop in front of a large box at Gru's feet. Heart pounding in his chest, he hesitantly knelt down in the snow and peered inside.

At first, he thought it was only a pile of old clothes, or maybe a cat curled up, trying to stay warm – anything than what he knew he was seeing. The familiar green coat, the black boots, the crooked glasses on the bridge of the tiny, red nose...

_"Margo?"_ Gru's voice was barely a hoarse whisper.

It was indeed his oldest girl, lying as still as a corpse. Her chestnut hair had straggled out of her ponytail, hanging over her pallid face in a stringy mess. Why her little hands were absent from her gloves, Gru had no idea. But her fingers had turned an unhealthy shade of purple, and her ears were a bright red to match her nose. Hands trembling, Gru reached into the box and carefully pulled out the girl.

She was so limp in his arms, like a rag doll. She felt so broken – so lifeless when her limbs hung from her body. Gru's brain was buzzing, asking the question of what she was doing out here, miles from home by herself. Where was Dr. Nefario or the minions? He told them to watch her. What had happened? His insides were screaming.

"Margo?" he asked tentatively. He shook her slightly, and asked again. And again. He leaned over and placed his face next to hers, fearing that he would never feel her breath on his face ever again.

But a tiny sliver of hope filled his chest as he caught the slight warmth of an exhale on his cheek. He fought the tears back, save for one that landed on sweet Margo's nose, and unzipped his coat, stored Margo inside, and zipped it back up halfway. He peered down into the winter jacket, seeing his girl's sweet, pale face pressed up against his chest. A fire burned in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his daughter and raced as smoothly as possible back towards the city.

"Hold on, my little warrior," he breathed, baring his teeth against the stinging wind. "Hold on."

…...


	5. First Christmas

Everything was pitch black around Margo. She glanced around, wondering if this was heaven or not. She tried to take a step forward, but her foot didn't want to move. It was glued to the ground beneath her...or was she standing on ground at all? It was getting hot in here...her face felt like it was burning up. She suddenly heard a noise behind her and spun around, but all there was to see was more blackness. Her heart was pounding furiously. She was finally able to lift up her foot and place it in front of her, but there was no foothold. Her stomach lurched as she fell forward, screaming, calling for Gru...

And then her eyes sprang open, her vision flooding with light as she gasped for air. She was laying down, and yet she was moving. She was beginning to wonder why her eyes were taking so long to adjust, but then she realized that her glasses had disappeared. However, she did figure out that she was lying on a hospital bed that was being pushed by two doctors down a long hallway. She struggled to sit up, but a jarring pain in her feet and hands shot up through her body and she fell back onto the blue sheets. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. One of the doctors placed a hand on her forehead.

"Don't move, sweetie," she said as they gently turned a corner.

"W-where am I?" Margo asked in a voice she hardly recognized as her own. It sounded like she was gargling a mouthful of rusty nails.

"You're in the hospital," the doctor replied as they came to a stop and three more doctors joined them. "You have hypothermia, so try not to strain yourself."

Margo's heart jumped at the sound of that word – a word she had read in her health book at school and had seen on countless Discovery Channel episodes. She never thought that that word "hypothermia" would be applied to her. Doctors were bustling around the bed now, rolling in trays of tools that made Margo nervous. They were all mumbling things to each other under their breaths, positioning themselves around the bed. Then, they all began talking to her at once.

"All right, Margo, you're going to feel a little pinch in your arm here..."

"...we have to hook you up to this IV, Margo. This may sting for a moment..."

"...brace yourself, dear, I need to draw some blood..."

About four things were happening at once to Margo's body, and they all stung like mad. She bit her tongue and tried to be brave, but a loud whimper escaped her lips anyway. She wanted to kick these doctors in the faces – especially the one jabbing her left arm with a scary-looking needle over and over, trying to find a nerve. Her head was spinning, her eyes were watering, and as fuzzy as her brain was, she tried to think about what had happened and how she had gotten here.

When it seemed like the doctors were finally finished prodding her and Margo was just about to let out a sigh of relief, four buckets were placed on the tables next to her, slightly steaming. Margo's wide, fearful eyes caught the attention of one of the doctors, who explained as the others finished setting things up.

"Now, Margo..." he said it so calmly, and it actually scared Margo more than if he had just told her they had to cut her head off with a saw. "You have second-degree frostbite on your hands and feet."

Margo instinctively glanced down, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of her right hand. Her fingertips were a dark blue and slightly puffy, rimmed with bright red and slightly yellow skin. She lifted her head up to glance at her feet, and her toes seemed to match her fingers. Margo opened her mouth to say something, but the doctor cut her off.

"The way we cure frostbite is by thawing out the infected areas. This is a very painful process, but we will make you as comfortable as possible as we..."

_"N-NO!"_ Margo couldn't help but shout. She knew all about thawing frozen body parts – and she knew that the people on the Discovery Channel screamed bloody murder every time it happened. Tears streamed down her cheeks without her consent, and she shook her head every time someone would try to comfort her. She didn't want these strangers pretending they knew how alone and scared she was feeling right now.

"Margo? She's awake?"

Margo lifted her tear-streaked face to glance at the doorway, where a man dusted with snow was speaking to a doctor. It was easy to distinguish him with his long nose and bald head, but the look on his face made Margo do a double-take. The dark circles under his eyes hinted at many sleepless nights, and his eyes were so wide with apprehension, Margo flinched when he looked directly at her. Part of her wanted to hide under the sheets so he wouldn't look on her with disappointment and scold her for being so careless. She had really screwed up this time – she did not deserve anyone here with her. They stared at each other for a couple more seconds, the doctors all silent since Margo's outburst, until Gru's composed face broke and he rushed to her side. He wrapped his arms around her tiny frame gently and muttered over and over, "Margo...oh, my little girl..."

It didn't take Margo long to give in. She buried her face in Gru's chest and let out shoulder-shaking sobs, saying over and over again, _"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." _Gru stroked his girl's hair, shushing her, and kissing her head repeatedly. They sat like this for a few minutes, while the doctors waited around, exchanging glances until one mustered up the courage to tap Gru on the shoulder.

"We're glad to see you're finished with the paperwork, Mr. Gru," he said, clenching and unclenching his fists worriedly. "And we're happy to see you two back together. But we really need to start thawing out the girl's hands and feet before..."

Gru waved the doctor away with an annoyed look, and leaned down to speak to his daughter.

"You are so brave, my warrior," he whispered, wiping the tears away from her streaked cheeks. "And I will be right here, all right?"

Margo hesitated, then slowly nodded, leaning back down onto the sheets and allowing the doctors to take her hands and feet. Gru stroked her forehead and laid a hand on her shoulder to keep her stable. She liked the feeling of his strong hand securing her, and shut her eyes tightly as her limbs were dipped into the warm water.

…...

"Is it Christmas yet, dad?"

Gru blinked and stopped in the middle of his reading, setting down _The Night Before Christmas_ – which he had found on the shelf across the room – and glanced at his watch. "Not yet. There are still a few more minutes until midnight."

Margo sighed in her hospital bed, trying to wriggle her feet wrapped in gauze, but giving up when she realized how weak she felt. She winced at the pain.

Gru gave his daughter a warning look. "What did the doctors tell you about moving your hands and feet?"

Margo rolled her eyes and turned her head to see out the window. "To not to," she recited. She hated how it hurt her throat to talk, and talking was one of her favorite things to do. Margo tried to clear her throat, but instead let out a series of hoarse coughs that shook her body. Gru stood up suddenly and grabbed the cup of tea sitting by her bedside table. He forced her to drink "at least two sips." Margo didn't care much for green tea, but she didn't complain as long as it was hot. Gru helped her to sit up, which was a struggle, and brought the mug to her lips. When he was sure that she was finished, he lay her carefully back onto the sheets and picked up the book, beginning to read again.

Margo rested her droopy eyes on her dad, watching him. She realized how much she loved his long nose, his shiny head, and his soft blue eyes scanning every word in the book. She had even missed his thick, Hungarian accent, which always made story time a lot more interesting. She listened to the sound of his voice, telling the story of Santa Claus flying through the night delivering gifts all over the world. The snow fell quietly now, looking so innocent and harmless behind the window. Lights of green and red twinkled outside, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of Margo's stomach. She felt warmth creep through her limbs and fill her chest as she glanced back at Gru, who still continued to read. Suddenly, tears filled Margo's eyes, and she could not explain why. Just gazing on her dad's face caused her throat to tighten up. She watched his lips move, his eyes blink, his hands carefully turning pages...

He finally seemed to take notice of her laying there, softly sobbing. Gru's brow wrinkled in surprise and concern, and he hurried to her side. He held her face in his warm hands, brushing stray tears with his thumb. His presence only made Margo cry all the harder. She closed her eyes, wishing she could wrap her arms around him. He obliged her, though, and held her tightly against his shoulder.

Hours seemed to drift by as Margo continued to sob, unable to stop herself. The sobs shook her whole body, which hurt her aching limbs, and only made her cry all the harder. Gru stood patiently, stroking her brown, scraggly hair, shushing her. When her heaving sobs turned to soft sniffles, he kissed her forehead and smiled down at her puffy, red cheeks.

"I'm sorry, dad," Margo choked, forcing herself not to burst into tears again. She hated how her sickly voice sounded right now. "I just...I just wanted to see you...for Christmas. People see their families on Christmas, and...I..." She trailed off, knowing that she sounded childish and stupid, but that's what she had been feeling all these weeks. That feeling of someone clutching her heart and not letting go – that tightness and worry that followed her every day leading up to Christmas. Other kids talked about the gifts they wanted for the holidays, who they were visiting, who was coming home. She wanted him to come home. And maybe she was being incredibly selfish. Maybe there were some dads who could not be home at all. But she had never known what it was like to have a Christmas with a family of her own. That, she realized, was all she really wanted.

Gru sat in silence for a moment, seeming to contemplate Margo. His eyes softly scanned her face, and Margo feared he was not going to answer. Finally, he spoke with a slight smile playing at his lips.

"My kitten," he muttered, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "There is nothing to be sorry for." He scratched the back of his neck. "I suppose this is my first Christmas with my family, too."

Margo looked up, a puzzled expression on her face. What about Grandma? The minions? Uncle Nefario?

Gru seemed to read her mind and chuckled out loud. "Grandma doesn't count."

For the first time in weeks, Margo burst into giggles. She loved Grandma, but there were always hilarious stories to be told about her disposition with Gru. Margo stopped laughing and looked up apologetically, but Gru only smiled.

"That's the Margo I know."

Margo blinked, smiled, and rested her head back onto his chest. His warmth made her forget about the stinging in her hands and feet. She wanted to sit like this forever.

"Merry Christmas," Gru said.

But Margo was already fast asleep. Her pale skin contrasted with her dark hair, still falling on her face. Her eyelashes rested against freckled cheeks, and Gru's heart swelled. She looked like an angel.

Gru decided not to wake her up and tell her that the others had called to wish a "Merry Christmas." Edith, Agnes, Nefario, the minions, and even Grandma had left a lengthy message, saying how much they loved her and couldn't wait to see her bright and early in the morning, no matter how much snow had fallen. But for now, Margo belonged to Gru on this Christmas night.

Their very first.

The End.


End file.
